Someone to Watch Over Me (41 page)

Behind me, Em giggled. “She does that to me
too.”

“I’m a mom,” I scowled. “It’s what we
do.”

“For the next few hours, you’re a kid
again,” Nolan ordered. “You’re free to misbehave and do all the
dumb things kids your age do.”

“Actually, no alcohol for me. I’m going to
sing. And then I’m going to make sure these two don’t get in any
trouble.” My how the tides turned. I was now looking out for
Em.

Behind me, the bathroom door opened. Nolan’s
gaze drew up. His eyebrow arched warily. “Looks like you’re going
to have your work cut out for you.”

Indeed. Mattie had changed. She wore a short
red number with black leather accents. When she gave a twirl, there
was no frill; it was all stretch and retract. It was backless, with
barely anything but two belts of black leather that connected at
the waist and neck.

Em let out a whistle through her teeth. “I
think she’s ready for battle.”

I looked down at myself, feeling slightly
disappointed. “I feel underdressed.”

Em’s dress wasn’t any better. She wore a
black ensemble that was simple and feminine with only a sheer
ruffle of ribbon along her neckline. It framed her breasts like a
hint of the unmentionables one might find underneath. And I say
might
, because there were no lines showing to say that she
was wearing any.

“Come on pimp daddy,” Em teased. “Come help
me down the stairs.”

“Seriously. I feel like a dork now. I wanna
be a girl too.”

“Sorry Coop. You’re the man today. You can
be the girl tomorrow.”

“That sounds so bad,” I pointed out, after I
thought about it. We fell into giggles as we descended the stairs
of the bus. Taylor and Marshall were on duty tonight. Even they
couldn’t keep a straight face as I looped an arm around each of the
girls’ waists and escorted them inside.

We stopped by the green room, where I warmed
up my voice with a little help of the piano, and then went to wait
backstage. There, the Sound Assistant fitted me with a
microphone.

“About four,” he told me, holding up the
corresponding number of fingers. “Then you’re on.” I nodded.
Clapping me on the back, he rushed off to his next task.

After that, it was a matter of waiting for
the next song to begin which was no hardship. While I’d watched all
of his sound checks, it had been weeks since I’d watched Tate live
in concert. I missed the lights…the noise…the rush. I missed being
on stage. I
craved
it.

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” Em
shouted. “You’re totally buzzing right now.”

My body moved on its own. Often, I didn’t
realize I was jamming along. It came naturally, the dancing and
singing. If I had an affinity for anything, it was definitely
music.

“I can’t help it. I’m psyched.”

“Do you know him well enough?” Em asked.

Rolling my eyes, I mirrored Tate’s moves,
mimed his expressions. A few of the crew stopped to watch my
antics. Em and Mattie rolled with laughter. Taylor fought to keep a
straight face. Marshall just shook his head. I had Tate down to the
T. Yes, I knew him.

“Tate is going to piss himself laughing when
he sees you!” Mattie swore, holding her stomach. “He’s going to
love it!”

“Trouble,” Marshall muttered. “You know
that, right?”

“What?” I asked, going for ingenuous. I
looked up at him, fluttering my lashes.

“How did you plan all this?”

“I’ll never tell.” Everyone. The entire
crew. It appeared they liked a good prank as much as the next, and
pledged to supply anything I needed for the cause. Most of what I
needed, I found on the internet. Throughout the afternoon, I
watched numerous videos of Tate’s previous concerts, learning his
nuances on stage, and memorizing the lyrics and timing.

“Paybacks are a bitch, he warned. “Are you
sure you want to do this?”

“Oh, shut it, Marshall,” Em scolded. “She’s
got years of mischief to burn off. Let her have some fun. She
deserves that much.”

Oz, a short, skinny man who headed the
visuals, spoke into his mike and then gave me the signal. The song
was coming to a close. On the video feed, he had queued footage of
Tate that would play alongside my hijack so the audience could
follow along with the prank.

“This is it,” I breathed, my stomach
quavering. Only seventy-five hundred people, nothing to be nervous
about.

“We’ll see you down front, Coop,” Mattie
said. “Good luck.” With a wave goodbye, she grabbed Em’s arm and
dragged her toward the side exit, where they would stand by the pit
for a front row show. Marshall accompanied them, shaking his head
in censure.

Carter shredded it on stage, closed the
number with a soaring guitar solo. The audience roared. Tate stole
a moment to hydrate, downed a few large gulps of water. Meanwhile,
Shane hiked up his pants, Jake prepped for the next song and I
warmed up my voice by humming out the first few lyrics. A few
seconds later, Carter began strumming out the first few chords.

Tate lifted the microphone to his mouth and
growled out the first line, but my throaty tone came out instead.
He looked at his mike in confusion and then panned the area. A wide
smile spread across his face as I swaggered on stage, dressed like
him, miming his routine.

Don’t don’t don’t you walk away from me

I’m not finished with you yet

I want to see you on your knees

Those big brown eyes looking up at me

Grabbing my crotch, I thrust my hips
forward, just as Tate would were he performing the song himself. My
face scrunched up in a parody of lust. Tate bent at the waist,
laughing.

Behind me, the ginormous video screen split
in two, Tate on half and me on the other. Now, normally, Tate
would’ve picked some random hoe from the audience to play this
part, but this time, he was playing the random hoe. Falling to his
knees at my feet, he looked up at me.

Ooh, I love the way you lick those lips

So nice and full

The things they do to me

You make my heart go boom and my stomach
flip

Reaching up with his arms, he placed a hand
on either side of my hips and slid them to my ass, pulling me
toward him. Shoving him back, I wagged my finger at him in
warning.

Uh uh, baby, not just yet

Don’t worry we’re getting there

Just let me savor this

No reason for you to fret

Dragging a nail up his cheek, I raveled my
hands into his hair, yanked his head back, and dropped my head with
a teasing smile.

I wanna wrap my fingers in your hair

Pull your head back taste you there

But I can’t let you off just yet

Sweetheart, you don’t have a prayer

Patting his cheek, I smirked and circled
him, dragged a finger across his shoulder. They shuddered under my
touch, still laughing at my antics. Using the sole of my boot, I
pushed him down on his hands and knees, then pressed him down to
the floor.

So, you think you can handle this

But I’ll have you on your knees

Crawling back where you belong

Because I’m no candy coated kiss

Dropping, Tate rolled to his back. Still
smiling that wayward smile, he placed his hands over his heart and
patted in a mock beat. “You make my heart go boom.”

Smiling, I straddled his waist, rolled my
hips in a wide circle. His eyes narrowed. He shook his head in
warning, while maintaining a smile. We had an audience, a real
one.

I’ll take you heights you never knew

The things I say will make you blush

But don’t mistake this for love

This is no simple boyhood crush

Mm no, this is no simple boyhood crush

So, you think you can handle this

Because I’m no candy coated kiss

Shaking with laughter, Tate sat up and
pulled the microphone from my ear then planted a kiss on my lips.
“You naughty, sexy girl.”

“You’re not the only one that plays to
win.”

“I’ll remember that.”

“See that you do and maybe I’ll let you
sleep in my bed tonight.”

“Oh, I’ll be in your bed, Strawberry Girl,
but we won’t be doing much sleeping.”

“With Em and Mattie aboard?”

“Mattie would be happier on the Body Bag
anyhow.”

“And Em?”

“She can keep Mattie out of trouble.”
Lifting me at the waist, Tate helped me to my feet. I offered him a
hand in return, pulled him off the floor. Turning toward the
audience, he flipped on his mike and fanned a hand in my direction.
“My beautiful, talented and much adored other half. She looks
better performing that one, no?”

Hands went up. Cheers rang out. Honored, I
took a slight bow. These were Tate’s fans. They weren’t obligated
to like me, so I was flattered to receive such an enthusiastic
response. Reluctant to overstay my welcome, I pressed a kiss to
Tate’s jaw and jogged off the stage.

Taylor was waiting for me. He had a towel in
his hand and a bottle of water. “Taylor,” I teased. “I’m
impressed.”

“It’s from one of the assistants,” he
admitted. A flush crept across his face, straight up to the tips of
his ears. “There was a problem. He had to run.”

“You totally could’ve taken credit for
that.”

Taylor smiled vaguely. “Ma’am.”

Holding up my index finger, I requested a
minute to powder my nose. Taylor followed me as far as the ladies’
room and leaned against the wall outside the door. I wondered how
much it sucked to follow me around all hours of the day. He had to
be bored out of his mind.

Inside, I passed a tall strawberry-blonde
who was fixing her make up in the mirror. She glanced up at my
entrance, but otherwise ignored me. I was the bigger person, so I
said “Hi.”

“You’re Tate’s wife.”

“Yeah.” I smiled and tugged Tate’s hat from
my head. I could practically feel the steam rise from my scalp. I
slipped the elastic from my hair and began to comb through the
knots, pulling it into a higher ponytail. “Are you on the crew? I
don’t think we’ve met.”

“Just a fan.”

“Oh? Who are you with?” The guys were
wasting no time. Dogs.

She declined to answer, but glanced in my
direction. Despite the heat pouring off me, the hairs rose on the
back of my neck. I briefly regarded the color of her hair, but
quickly brushed it off. It was just a coincidence. She looked
nothing like me. However, a smaller part of me pointed out that she
did resemble the girl from Tate’s first album cover.

Pulling a tube of lipstick from her pocket,
she glided it over her lips, slicking them with a fresh coat of
light pink gloss. Again, her gaze flickered to me as she mashed her
lips together and spread it to an even coat. “You don’t look
pregnant.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It wasn’t.”

Wow…just wow. “Excuse me?” My back
immediately went up. What was her problem?

“It’s obvious you’re using him to get your
own five minutes of fame.”

“You don’t know anything about Tate or our
relationship.”

“Apparently, neither do you.” Sliding her
lipstick back into her pocket, she sauntered to the door, her
fuck-me red heels clicking against the ceramic tile. “That was my
song you just sang. Has been the last three tours.” Smirking, she
pulled the door open and strode out.

Stunned, I stared at the empty door. I felt
like she just ripped my world out from under me. Every possible
atrocity whirled through my mind, striking up innumerable fears and
suspicions. I had never questioned Tate before, but with that one
considerable seed of doubt, she had me mentally ajar.

The notion was cliché, but I couldn’t help
latching onto the fact that he came home freshly showered after
every show. Honestly, I was sweating after only one measly song.
With the stage lights, his level of physical activity and the added
heat of seventy-five hundred fans, the stage was sweltering. I knew
from experience. He wanted to be clean, simple as that.

Nevertheless, it fostered other suspicions
like the irregularities in the hours he returned to the bus. One
night he might stroll in at a timely one in the morning and wake me
up for a little midnight delight. On other nights, he’d stagger in
shit-faced and exhausted well past three, and pass out face down on
the nearest horizontal piece of furniture he could find.

It left me wondering what kept him.

I knew I was being paranoid. He had meet and
greets and autographs to sign after his shows. I knew this. I’d
witnessed it. It was all part of his job. He appreciated his fans
and he demonstrated this by making himself available to them. I
admired him for it. Not many artists gave their fans the time of
day.

“Cooper?”

Taylor’s voice ripped me from my dark and
twisted musings. I released the grip I had on the sink and
submerged my hands under the faucet. “I’ll be right out.”

I left the water sluice over my wrists. I’d
seen it on TV once and it stuck with me. It was most likely an old
wives tale, but it worked, even if it was all in my head. A short
time later, I emerged refreshed and slightly cooler. I stuffed
Tate’s hat into my back pocket.

“Ma’am?”

“I’m fine, Taylor. Do we need to do this
again?”

Shifting his weight, Taylor looked to the
ground and cleared his throat. “Ma’am, if I can speak
candidly…”

“By all means.”

“If I had known she was in there, I would’ve
intervened. If she said anything—”

“Oh, she definitely said something.”

“Then it was purely out of spite.”
Earnestly, he met my eyes. “Tate refused to see her before the
show. She’s been sneaking in and out of here all night. Tate
already put a complaint in to the venue about their security
staff.”

My stomach turned to an upright position. My
heart settled to a normal pace. My lungs released a long-held
breath of air. “God, I’m such an asshole.”